


Kinky Hannigram ficlets

by kinkynana (nanazlovese)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Bestiality, Blow Jobs, Collars, Embarrassment, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Other, Puppy Play, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-consensual Voyeurism, Sugar Daddy, Voyeurism, Wet Dream, self-disgust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanazlovese/pseuds/kinkynana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a place to post some kinky ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Will's auto-erotic asphyxiation

Will Graham catches sight of himself in the mirror and quickly looks away. The pathos of his naked, shuddering form in this situation disgusts him. He forces his eyes shut, concentrating on the sensations, and his hand moves roughly down his length with almost painful speed. It has been like this recently; even masturbation has become an act of self-disgust, a job to be done fast and violently. His dark curls shiver as his hips begin to thrust upwards in time with his hand, and his forehead creases in concentration. His lips, parted slightly, show his teeth in a grimace of pain and pleasure.

With his right hand still working, Will reaches up to where the loosely fastened belt has been hanging around his neck. A small tug slides the prong up and sits it against the leather, tightening the belt against his hot skin. He inclines his head to the right, eyes still closed, settling it around his neck and exploring the familiar pressure. As the rhythm of his right hand gains even more speed, he violently jerks the end of the belt away from himself, groaning as the stiff leather bites into his flesh. His breath is coming in short, sharp gasps now and his whole body feels burningly hot. His arm is almost straight, pushing the end of the belt away from him. Angling his arm down, he feels the pressure increase on his carotid arteries, and groans huskily.

He can feel the beginnings of orgasm now, the soft tingling in his abdomen as his muscles contract, starved of oxygen. He tightens the belt further, straightening his arm, gripping the leather with white knuckles, and he can hear the blood in his head, feel his body straining against him. His right hand pushes hard down his length as his eyes slide shut. He feels hot and light and huge and his eyelids and lips pulse heavily. His head drops back as his body convulses, cutting off his oxygen completely as his hand slides down himself for the final time, before he comes violently, shuddering and shaking, falling back onto the bed, left hand working desperately to loosen the belt. As the pressure eases, he gasps for breath, softening dick lying across one leg, the belt still loosely fastened around his reddened neck.

After a few minutes, he opens his eyes. Disgusted with himself, he rips the belt from around his neck and throws it to the back of his closet. After showering, he catches sight of himself in the steamy bathroom mirror. Deep purple bruises are beginning to blossom on the pale skin of his neck. He looks into the tired eyes of his reflection and sighs deeply.


	2. Will's wet dream and voyeur Hannibal

It had been a long time since Hannibal Lecter last used hypnosis on a patient, and he had worried he would be out of practice, but Will had gone under surprisingly easily. Now he reclines in the chair in front of Hannibal, chest rising and falling more slowly and regularly than it ever would when he is awake. The psychiatrist smiles slightly, revelling in his power over the other man. Hannibal gets up and moves to his desk, whilst continuing to talk in a soothing voice, bringing Will further under. He stops when he hears a small groan. Cocking his head slightly, he turns slowly around. His patient is still sitting where he left him. Hannibal turns back around, picking up a pen and a bound leather notebook, before he hears another groan, louder this time, throaty and deep. When he looks at Will he can see, much to his surprise, that the other man’s hips are moving, thrusting gently up from the leather of the chair.

He moves quietly back to his chair, fading out his talking so as not to alert Will, and sits down to watch him. It is as if Will takes the silence as a cue to continue; as soon as Hannibal is seated, Will’s head drops back onto the dark leather and he moans again. His eyes were already closed but now his forehead creases in pleasure, and his lips, reddened, begin to part. Hannibal watches with interest as his patient’s breath quickens, one hand reaching to the crotch of his trousers, rubbing slowly at the now obvious bulge. Will moans again, and mouth open, it is much louder, filling the silent office. His hips are thrusting faster now, circling slightly against the leather of the chair, and Hannibal watches as he begins to bite his lip in tingling pleasure.

Increasing the pace of his hand, Will almost cries out. Hannibal has never envisioned him as loud during sex, but it feels like Will is determined to prove him wrong. Will’s other hand begins to grip the arm rest of the chair, kneading the leather with white knuckles. The seat creaks with each buck of his hips now, as his frantic palming and thrusting become more violent. Suddenly, he stops. A long, deep moan escapes him and he sinks, shuddering, into the leather of the chair, riding out the waves of pleasure. Hannibal can see his entire body relax, exhausted, damp curls sticking to his face as his breathing slows.

Hannibal knows it is time to wake Will up; leaving him sitting in soiled trousers would be against even Hannibal’s very loose ethical code. He speaks a few soft sentences, bringing Will back into the room, and then he sits back to watch. Will blinks slightly and then opens his eyes, a frown of concentration and confusion passing across his face before he shifts in his chair and feels the stickiness. His face immediately flushes red. Stuttering out a broken apology, he stands up, quickly turning away from Hannibal. His face burns as he walks shakily towards the bathroom, and his legs and knees feel infuriatingly weak, but the room feels hot and tight with his humiliation and he knows he has to get out.


	3. Sugar-Daddy(ish)!Hannibal takes Will shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:  
> 'Is Sugar Daddy a kink? If so, I want Sugar Daddy!Hannibal. Just plain Daddy!Hannibal is good too.'  
> -ChaosOrdo_FFL 
> 
> I hope this sort of fills what you were looking for. :)

This is the third time he and Hannibal have been shopping in the last month. From the first time they met, Will has surprised himself with his interest – fascination even – in Hannibal’s wardrobe. The varying patterns, cuts and combinations of fine fabrics are a stark contrast to his own worn out trousers and unironed shirts, and he has been left feeling out of place and self-conscious in Hannibal’s richly furnished office. But today is different to their other trips: today, the purchases are for Will. Though alone, he would feel uncomfortable in boutiques like this, with Hannibal he feels as though his passage is granted, and his lover guides him carefully and knowledgeably through the racks of clothes, occasionally holding some item against his slim form and smiling or frowning almost imperceptibly. 

Hannibal watches as, turning over a price tag on one of the jackets, Will’s forehead creases in confusion. He turns to Hannibal, searching for an explanation. Hannibal knows very well that this boutique doesn’t price clothes; if one has to ask, one can’t afford them, so he merely takes Will by the hand and leads him to the fitting rooms. 

Hannibal follows Will into the cubicle, carefully hangs the clothes and draws the heavy curtain across. As Will begins to undress, Hannibal deftly removes the outfit he has chosen from its various hangers. He watches Will pull the trousers on, the fine fabric sliding easily over his smooth skin, and allows a second for Will to struggle with the complicated fastening before stepping up behind him and reaching around to gently push his hands out of the way. As he fastens the trousers, his head over Will’s shoulder to see what he is doing, he feels the other man lean back, resting his head in the crook of Hannibal’s neck. The smell of Will, topless as he is, engulfs Hannibal and he draws deep breaths as he brushes his hand over the already hardening bulge in Will's fine trousers. 

As Will’s eyes flick open, Hannibal steps back. He motions to the rest of the clothes, and Will, looking only slightly disappointed, dons the rest of the outfit without problems. Hannibal admires Will’s reflection in the full-length mirror, assessing every inch of his beautiful lover, while Will waits patiently for his verdict, even now avoiding eye-contact in the glass. Once again, he feels Hannibal step close behind him, but this time he can feel a hard bulge pressing up against him, and strong, firm hands turn him around and force him down onto his knees. 

Will’s breath has already quickened, coming in hitching gasps of anticipation, and he looks up at Hannibal through his dark curls, waiting as Hannibal’s hand undoes his flies and releases his cock. Will moves forward, taking the head in his mouth and swirling his tongue around exactly as he knows Hannibal likes it, eliciting a sensual groan from the older man. Hannibal drops his head back against the wall and uses one hand in Will’s hair to push himself deeper, building a rhythm as he thrusts into Will’s mouth. Will’s gasps for air become more frantic as he fights to breathe around Hannibal’s bucking, and suddenly he is gagging, letting the cock fall from his mouth. Hannibal reaches down, looking concerned. One gentle hand takes Will under the chin, lifting his face to make eye contact, before wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb. Will blinks dumbly, before pulling Hannibal’s cock back into his mouth, eager to please his lover, quickening the pace further as he thrusts against the older man’s leg.

Hannibal comes first, a deep, throaty moan escaping his lips as he relaxes into his orgasm, slumping slightly against the wall. Will only takes a few more strokes against his lover’s leg before he too is overtaken by pleasure, shuddering and collapsing against Hannibal’s hip as wave after wave of heat and euphoria roll over him. Hannibal’s fingers are still entwined in Will’s hair, gently teasing the curls. After a few minutes, Will looks up at Hannibal. ‘Daddy?’ He whispers. Hannibal smiles down at him, and Will can see how much that pleases the other man, ‘I think I might need some more trousers.’


	4. Will and Hannibal in the F.B.I. toilets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know this wasn't one of the prompts and I'm really sorry and all I just had an urge. The fills *are* coming, it's just Uni work and uuurh :)

Hannibal pushes himself up against Will in the limited space and closes the door behind him. His movement elicits a small groan from the younger man, and Hannibal looks up, making warning eye contact for the briefest of moments before Will looks away. He should know not to make a sound; neither of them want to be caught in the throes of lust in the FBI Academy toilets. Will has his eyes closed and rests his head against the dividing wall between two of the cubicles, panting slightly. Hannibal takes a very short moment to revel in the perfect beauty of his lover, and there is absolute stillness between the two men before he bends towards Will. His strong hands move to pin Will’s by his sides as he kisses roughly along his jawline, taking delight in the various smells and tastes of his pale neck. Will moans again, followed by a slight whimper as Hannibal bites into his delicate skin. As he begins to protest, his mouth is stopped by a firm kiss and a quiet groan of Hannibal’s own. Hannibal pushes himself into Will’s compact heat, the sensation through the layers of the fabric almost painful in intensity. Will’s head drops back against the cubicle wall and grinds his hips against Hannibal’s, a rhythm beginning to build between the two men. 

And then there is a noise. Hannibal hears it first, Will’s senses too steeped in lust to notice anything outside of his lover’s caresses, but he feels Hannibal pull away, and his eyes open to see the other man alert and listening, head cocked slightly. As his lips begin to form a question, he hears it too. There is someone else in the room. Both men freeze, cocks pulsing against each other through the fabric. Neither even draws a breath. They hear the man walk to the sinks. A tap turns on, the gushing water masking the noise of Will’s first shaky breath as he closes his eyes, trying to regain enough control to stay quiet. Hannibal remains absolutely still, eyes open but unfocussed as he concentrates on listening. Will’s fear of the third man in the room quickly turns to impotent anger; what’s taking him so long? Why is he in here if he’s not going to use the urinal? When the faucet stops he can hear splashing, as if the man is slowly and painstakingly washing his hands, and he grits his teeth as his cock throbs painfully, longing for release. 

Hannibal is assessing the situation. He can see that Will is experiencing discomfort, and he hates to see that in his lover when it is not absolutely necessary. He knows exactly what he would need to do in order to give Will the release he longs for. However, to try anything with this man in the bathroom is risky, and Hannibal is reluctant to put their careers in jeopardy. But when he looks at Will, eyes closed, head resting on the cubicle wall, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead as his eyebrows crease in a frown of pain, he is decided. The first Will knows of it is the slight wave in the air as Hannibal moves. When he opens his eyes, his lover at first appears to have gone, but the hands dexterously unfastening his flies make him gasp in surprise. He looks down at Hannibal, shaking his head furiously in a frantic warning, but to no avail; the other man reaches a hand inside his trousers, briefly brushing his cock through his thin boxers and then freeing it completely. He gasps thickly, eyes clenching shut as Hannibal licks his lips. Why now? Hannibal barely ever pleasures him like this, and Will is by no stretch of the imagination ungrateful, but why now? 

His train of thought is broken by the first gentle touches of Hannibal’s tongue. Will lets out a shaky breath, one hand coming to rest on the back of Hannibal’s head. He is so good at this. So controlled. So – Will whimpers slightly as Hannibal swirls his tongue across the over-stimulated head of his cock, and feels Hannibal’s fingers tighten on his thighs in warning. He swallows again, fighting to stay quiet as the orgasm begins to swell in his abdomen. Somewhere in the back of his mind Will knows they have to get back to the investigation; they can’t be missing for too long or someone will notice, but it feels so good to surrender himself to Hannibal, and he can feel himself edging towards orgasm, panting and sweaty, both hands tightly entwined in the other man’s dishevelled hair. 

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for Will to reach orgasm, and he arches his back against the cubicle wall, bucking uncontrollably into Hannibal’s mouth, eyes closed in ecstasy, the beginnings of an unmistakeably erotic moan forming in his throat. Hannibal freezes, his emotionless exterior momentarily failing as he hears the man outside stop splashing, listening. Will, shuddering, eyes still closed, slumps slightly, close enough for Hannibal to place a tight hand over his nose and mouth. He responds with a small ‘mmf’, before the remainder of his orgasm overtakes him, soundlessly, thanks to the air restriction. Hannibal holds tightly as Will collapses, listening to the sound of the water in the sink draining away as the man’s footsteps reach the door. Will’s hands begin to claw frantically at Hannibal’s as his body fights for air, but Hannibal remains composed. They both hear the door close, and Hannibal frees Will, the other man gasping for breath and panting, one arm weakly pushing himself up from the floor. Hannibal, eminently calm, looks on soundlessly, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and Will, opening his eyes, glares at him through his curls.


	5. Collared puppy Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:  
> 'Ooh, like puppy play! (Will welcomes the distraction of being treated like a human pet; wearing a collar, being petted, etc). Master!Hannibal and puppy/collared!Will. 
> 
> [Will isn't going to freely admit it, though, so maybe when Will is at home he opens the door to Hannibal, not realizing he's still wearing a collar...]'  
> \- PuppyWillGraham

It has become habit now, to curl up with the dogs once he is utterly and completely spent; the warm homeliness of their musky scent and steady rhythm of their breathing enhancing the tingling post-coital pleasure he feels on those cold Wolftrap nights. Recently he’s even been wearing a spare collar, an old one that he once tried on Winston, black leather that has worn thin and soft, with a jingling tag that makes him feel claimed and loved. He knows it’s weird, but Will can’t argue that (through some behaviouristic means, he can hear Hannibal explaining) wearing the collar has begun to turn him on. Now as he strokes himself he wears it, thinks about lying down with the dogs, becoming one of them, being treated as nothing more than a dirty mutt but feeling simple, feeling happy. Sometimes that’s all it takes, and he drags his panting self to the sleeping mass. But he knows he would never tell anyone.

A sharp knock at the door awakens Will and the dogs as one. For a moment Will’s surroundings perplex him, leave him blinking in the morning sunlight. He scrambles for clothes, calling a shaky ‘just a minute’ through the door. Pulling on trousers and an old t-shirt he left discarded by his un-slept-in bed, he unlocks the door. The sunlight makes him cringe, and the brisk air is a sharp shock to his sleepy, warm body. Squinting, he looks up into Hannibal’s calm, unreadable face. 

Dr Lecter has always prided himself on his observant nature, but it would be difficult for anyone to miss what he has just seen; Will Graham is wearing a collar. A brief, slightly awkward exchange of words has Will seated, Hannibal serving breakfast for the pair. As he moves behind Will he bends down, inhaling the scent the collar carries. Unmistakeable dog, though old; Will doesn’t share this with his canine companions. And something else. He can smell Will, but distilled; the very essence of the man. And with a slight tingling and rising of blood he knows when and why Will wears it. Calm and collected as always, Hannibal conceals his interest. He returns to his seat as Will leans forward to take a bite of food, and the older man can see his realisation. The leather is tighter on his neck when he leans forwards, and he instantly flushes bright red in embarrassment. 

He is even more embarrassed when, realising Hannibal can see him like this, the blood in his cock begins to thicken. He leans forward, pushing one hand into his crotch, willing himself to soften, but he can only think of Hannibal’s clipped voice gently chiding him, calling him, the cool hands petting him. Looking up, he sees Hannibal eating, small mouthfuls expertly crafted, and thinks what a good master he would make. Mentally fighting the pulsing of his now fully hard cock, Will forces his eyes to his plate. He could try to take the collar off, but it might arouse Hannibal’s attention and mean a discussion, which Will couldn’t face. Or, he could leave it on, and risk his arousal becoming obvious. With shaking hands, he begins to reach to the brass buckle.

“Will.” Stern. The hard edge to the voice makes Will’s cock jump. He opens his mouth, unable to reply. “Will. Do not take it off.” Will’s breath hitches as he drops his hands. “Are you not hungry, Will?” The calm voice continues. He doesn’t know what to say. The noise he makes is more like a whimper than human speech. He can only stare in disbelief and utter humiliation and throbbing arousal as Hannibal reaches over, picks up his plate, and bends to place it on the floor beside him. He looks at Will expectantly. Will is too steeped in lust to answer; doesn’t want to awkwardly brush this off. Unable to make eye contact with Hannibal, and cock throbbing painfully, he slides off his chair. 

Hannibal watches him crawl around the table to reach his food. The movement is fluid; Will has done this before, he notes with some small pleasure. With a shoe, he pushes the food towards Will, who hesitantly begins to eat. There is quiet aside from Will’s now laboured panting of arousal, and Hannibal sees he is rocking in time with his eating, searching for stimulation. Hannibal reaches down and cuffs him lightly, ruffling his dark curls. The man is still. 

There is a smile in Hannibal’s voice as he tells Will to remove his trousers. There is a moment’s hesitation before he rocks back onto his knees, unbuttoning and pulling off his trousers. He waits. “And your shirt.” Will’s shaking hands reach up to pull the top over his head, and he sits, naked apart from the collar, cock red and stiff, unable, still, to make eye contact for shame. Hannibal has to resist the urge to lick his lips. “You are one of the dogs now, Will, nothing more.” Though Will is looking down, he can see the curls shake with a shiver of arousal. Hannibal looks over to the dogs, and calls Winston. The dog bounds over, interested in Will’s food and excited to be allowed. But Hannibal leads him around to behind Will, then points Will at the food bowl once more. Though initially confused, Winston is soon interested in his master’s bent form. Will can feel the wet nose near his ass, and shivers at the hot puffs of breath. He can feel the orgasm building in him, the degradation and humiliation reaching a peak as the other dog pushes between his cheeks, inhaling that most intimate part of him, and as he nears his end, Winston’s tongue strokes hotly along his perineum. The effect is electrifying, and Will is overtaken by wave after wave of pleasure, slipping forwards to rest on his elbows. Hannibal watches as his hips buck helplessly, a loud moan escaping his open mouth as he throws his head back and arches his body, cock searching desperately for stimulation. 

When Will comes down, his head is resting on Hannibal’s leg. He begins to pull away, embarrassed, but a cool finger slips between his collar and his sweat-sheened skin, pulling his face up to rest on Hannibal’s knee. And as he finally manages, just for a second, to make eye contact, Hannibal utters two words: “good boy.”


	6. Virgin Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:  
> 'Oh and if need ideas why not a virgin!Will or a priest kink? these are my favorite sins and would please me greatly but just do as you want, let inspiration guide you ^^'  
> -PageBlanche
> 
> Thank you!

As all too frequently seems to happen, Will and Dr Lecter’s discussion has slipped into an area Will is not entirely comfortable with. He shifts in his seat, visibly embarrassed by his psychiatrist’s choice of topic. Silently, he curses Freud. He and Hannibal have only strayed into discussion of sexuality once or twice in the course of therapy, and Will is (in this one case) thankful for Hannibal’s unorthodox approach – he knows it is an area frequented by many lesser doctors – a low hanging psychiatric fruit.

‘I would like to ask you a personal question, Will. Is that okay?’ Hannibal’s serene voice does nothing to ease the knot of anxiety in Will’s stomach, but he nods quickly, motioning Hannibal to go on. ‘When was the last time – roughly – that you had sexual relations with another person?’ There is an awkward pause. Will can feel his heart rate quickening; the anticipation of humiliation. He runs a hand through his hair, looking at the ceiling, desperately searching for a way to brush off the question, as he always has done. ‘A while’ is the best he can come up with, hoping it will show Hannibal he is not comfortable discussing this. But Hannibal merely inclines his head and asks, eminently composed, ‘Will, are you a virgin?’

Will instinctively smiles bitterly, trying to laugh it off. ‘Who would be a virgin at my age?’ Hannibal doesn’t smile. He continues to watch his patient. ‘Are you, Will?’ And as Hannibal watches the other man begins to visibly shrink in front of him. Will fixes his stare on his knees, embarrassment seeping out of every pore. He knows a straight lie will be obvious; his only hope was in deflecting the question. But now Hannibal knows. He draws a shaky breath, stubbornly refusing eye contact. ‘Have you ever had an erotic encounter of any kind?’ The silence continues. Hannibal seems to be drawing it out as long as he can, and Will can feel every second with a biting intensity. 

Eventually, Hannibal nods slightly to himself, looking down and with one hand adjusting a button on his waistcoat before posing another question. ‘How does that make you feel?’ Will keeps his eyes fixed on the floor, but Hannibal can see the answer written all over his face. ‘Well, Will, you are my patient’ as Hannibal speaks he stands and begins to move quietly over to Will ‘your welfare is my business.’ By now he is standing over Will, and as he speaks he leans down to place a cool finger under his friend’s chin, lifting Will’s face up for a moment to look him in the eye ‘Would you like me to help you?’ Will quickly pulls his chin away, grimacing in discomfort and embarrassment. But Hannibal is not deterred; his calm presence remains beside the chair, and after a few seconds, barely audible, comes the broken and mumbled admission: ‘Yes.’

Much unsure fumbling on Will’s part and calm direction on Hannibal’s has them standing facing each other, not 5 inches apart. Will is backed up against the ladder and now Hannibal can move in, going slowly not only to ease Will’s nervousness but for his own pleasure; he allows himself to revel in the sensory delight that his patient has become in this heightened emotional state. Hannibal’s strong hands take hold of Will’s, pushing them back and holding them against the ladder, feeling the tremors of arousal run under his skin. There is a brief moment of awkwardness when Hannibal pushes in and begins to kiss Will, surprise making him jerk back, but after a few seconds he is returning the kiss with feverish, if clumsy, intensity. It takes less than a minute for Hannibal to feel Will rubbing against him, involuntarily searching for stimulation. His inhibition dissipated, he pulls away from the kiss enough to mumble a few pleading words to Hannibal, and the other man is happy to oblige.

Hannibal releases one hand, eyes never leaving Will’s face (though Will’s head has dropped back against a rung of the ladder, hair sticking to his forehead with a sheen of sweat). As he unzips Will’s trousers and takes his hard cock into his free hand, he wonders for how long Will has dreamt of this day, and he smiles to himself; what could be more intimate, more trustworthy than this? Sometimes the most useful advantages in life come completely unplanned. Hannibal’s hand works expertly at a pace that is almost too steady for Will. He moans loudly, his brow creasing in pleasure as he rolls his head to the side away from Hannibal, exposing pale, delicate neck where Hannibal can see his quick pulse fluttering under the skin. 

His hips begin to buck and then with very little warning, both of Will’s hands tighten on the stringers of the ladder and, shuddering violently, he comes over Hannibal’s hand. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over him and he feels as though he is at once being lifted up and pulled down towards the ground. He cries out and it sounds perfect and distant and euphoric, and then his knees are on the soft carpet and he is back in Dr Lecter’s office, eyes focussing on Hannibal who has dropped to one knee in front of him, wiping his hand on a fine handkerchief. 

Still short of breath, he hastily stands up, leaning on the ladder and shakily fastening his trousers. Hannibal rises with him and is watching him, perhaps mildly concerned, perhaps merely bemused. Will cannot make eye contact. He manages to mutter a husky ‘thank you’, passing a hand across his hot face, and as he collects his bag and coat and makes his way to the door, he can hear Hannibal’s soft voice. 

‘I look forward to our next appointment.’

**Author's Note:**

> Please give me prompts for kinks you want to see in ficlets! I'm happy to try writing pretty much anything, I just can't guarantee how soon I'll get around to it :)


End file.
